said he didn’t watch it much while things are unsettled

over there


a poor choice of word maybe

perhaps not alarmist.


we asked if he referred to the war

which we consider affects us all


he nodded then sat down in his garden chair

or is it the air changing?
mood settles, or is it the
time of year?

mainly red,

comes a differing hue
with duck egg blue,

the ironmongers in town
at one seventy nine

Yet the days moved nicely. There were little troubles, nothing to diminish the beauty of it all.

Yes chilly and windy here yesterday.

Another exciting day in that the neighbours were having a tree felled and it was interesting to watch between tasks and warming up.

Ivor called to look at the greenhouse and left me to mull over ideas.

Then I started to define one of the paths with the gravel that was delivered. Did not rush as I will like it in a good place so hope to continue today.

Rang my brother, he is fine.

Then Pat Doorbar rang , also fine.

Not much on TV so listened to a podcast about space debris and drifted off.

With capitals and punctuation today. A treat.

we wonder how it will map
out

we have wondered before
when waking to a misted world

poor birds

have it difficult the best of times
then comes the festivals
those traditions

that mean they must die

talking of which
now we know

with our present hidings and isolation
distancing

how they live at all times

the creatures burn and die
fly
away

i watch the squirrels down the back lane
each day
sometimes one will stop running and

we look at each other

a while

the history is complex
involved with movement
and a state of mind

on all parts

yesterday was long and simple

think of you, who made it special

and we leaped with the preparations, little folk.

he came round the back of the house, my beautiful

the coal house next to the toilet by our back door

once he fell and mother brought him in and his hands went to the walls and surfaces for support, making marks

i

fancy mother made him tea, with sugar

we moved house not so beautiful, my beautiful

upstairs, it was carried upstairs by the front door prepared with newspaper wads to stop the dust and me parked behind to count the bags.

always correct, failing the story of short loads and money on the side

now my beautiful, is delivered to the bunker outside and the delivery note put through the letter box for me

beautiful house for me yet

one never forgot the first

my beautiful.

our work
our soul
is in
our chest

light the darker days

of gloom and melancholia

born from intrusion

and swede.

this is quality,

a fortunate piece.

some of us manage

to be vulnerable as naked

in private

some need holding up

in sight from our window

tapering off into dots repeated

the fall is abrupt and possibly dramatic

is it acceptable to think in phrases, believe the attrocities yet do not share them

with friends.

storm came yesterday dark and loud  the landscape veiled
awash a while
black things fade and all is grey

win or lose hedge your edge
write of parlay

you came again in auto fill

last evening sat alone



we still cannot understand

there is no explanation for that

nor what you did



you are a ghost to us now

fading



we watched it on tv

he set up camp elsewhere

required the internet

i liked the paintings of tents done in dull colours

remember the teacher who disliked the bolder hues

who bakes bread now and posts on facebook

is with the gallery who sacked me for such a thing and other reasons

i don’t know

i bake bread and eat it

yellow
drawn by the name not just the colour

and oh that name come true
on opening jim

is fading now
yet remains as the description

in blue writing

as if

it is important

you see

each day, each day the suns shines
and we stay at home

flashing

nought nought

a sure sign that something
has occured

i will know more when i investigate

told them about joan and they said they had to go, get home

later I heard they liked her despite the startled look

she was drawn again yesterday

it was one of those books

you know the sort you read over

something about a house

i seem to remember

one of the favourites

have the set up until then

and i expect she has written more

since

there is a boat house up cregennan

another down bontddu

making good photographs

good dreams



drama change to night terrors

when you cannot shift

the weight bearing down from hell or somewhere

else

hell is a story for control

for controversy

they come here spouting the belief yet

never ask for mine



fairies.

island.

island / n.1. a piece of land surrounded bywater

2. anything compared to an island,

especially being surrounded in some way

3. a detached or isolated thing

think the road is closed for people on bicycles

with a helicopter flying over

this morning while doing the garden in the heat got sweaty and allergic

sneezing with spotty rashes

i ate tinned gooseberries from the fridge in the cool corner of the cottage

and felt better

saw you fallen

&

photographed you

yet could not save you

nor

any of them

you are a metaphor

need to move them into a place
of loose adjustment
of random offerings
and sketchy lines

understanding

&

our bus broke down
in gellilydan

we sat
chatted
waited
laughed for 40 minutes

then another bus came

arrived home to notice
the car had a puncture

breakdown cover
covered  that

good here in that alone
is not lonely

wore the new yellow cardigan,
the blouse with spots.

yet there were still shadows

some of you have mentioned the bear

the absence

yet still here though quiet

now

no more proclaiming

just whispering within these walls

or sending thoughts

there is still confusion and little understanding of the world

there is no gender pronoun

the bear is a quiet affair

the event that left one bereft

left and

then worked upon with thought and patience

may in time become something

something

useful

.from the archive.

google when back at home, read about
people, and know we may after all
be twins.

thankyou

for your offered help

and saying you care for my welfare

all very much appreciated

i thankyou and say it is only temporary

i gather leaves now that the sky is clear

see the stars when I put the cat out early

it is a stable door
i open the top

she hisses
though she has been in for hours

i gather leaves
now the rain has stopped a while

look out at the world beyond the garden

it is green
the mountain beyond

i gather leaves now that things have stopped

place them in bags
for the recycling centre

I used to gather leaves my friend
to keep in paper bags

maybe some folk enjoy being alone
my friend

Listen to .. gentle .. by sonja benskin mesher on #SoundCloud
https://soundcloud.com/sonja-benskin-mesher/gentle?ref=clipboard&p=a&c=1

comes at night he said

the bleakness

yes i am inclined to agree; it will be an uphill journey
for us both.
to learn, to grow

yesterday i wrote of comics
free form

now challenged to talk of teeth
and dentists as elizabethan sonnet

form

we know i prefer no rules nor restrictions

with all that stopping to count
and refigure

yet will rise to it in mine notebook
first then down onto the device

today and finish tomorrow
in plenty of time

they are all animals even cows and sheep

and horses

she ate them

except the horse as she did not fancy that

she only ate those she was used to

becomes part of the
pattern
a mark on the horizon

could change it for another yet it has become
a mantra

a pause like in breathing

i told him when he asked about dinner
with his sister

we laughed and the wind blew things
away

comes a wider space, with mistakes and misgivings.
nothing in this world is perfect. it is raining today.

early yet

I have to tell you
that

i went a different way
to avoid the usual

on checking I find
my dictionary

which explains.

it means

a place of discussion & debate

which it is indeed.

yet I don’t do that no more

really….

shades defining.

now I have to say that I usually like

the colour as items, yet maybe not

as entity.

I face the slate

grey

and bleed red

want to draw that image

to keep it in my brain
to come out some other way

take on all the things on our arms
our shoulders

the coat hanger effect

i noted his oversized coat
and was admonished for

assuming judgement on
appearance

no no no it is about remembrance
and the drawing out later
when all is quiet james

it is that time of year for memorials
eighteen days yet

perhaps someone will come to measure the depth

calculate the timeline

some of us manage
to be vulnerable as naked
in private

some need holding up
in sight from my window

nothing felt right yesterday

not large stuff
nor small
and though like you to bed early

it rattled my brain until two
yet this morning awake as usual

surrounded in soft cotton
sheets

the duvet is white
and we huddle comfy

hope for a settled day

that is all

james

-6°
overcast

warning of snow and ice

asked if he referred to the war

which we consider affects us all

he nodded then sat down in his garden chair

tidy beach

soft sand and honest stones
to be fortunate here

yet

some come to spoil things..

these are the warmer days, days of independance.

days to charm